The Longest Mile
by justgreat
Summary: When a seventeen year old youth is injured following a road accident only his young brother can help him.


THE LONGEST MILE

This is a fictional story but it is based on a real life incident. To all those young heroes and heroines who have shown great courage, resolve and endurance in helping others in their hour of need this story is dedicated.

17 year old Barry Sullivan and his 11 year old brother Frank were taking an afternoon drive in the Spanish countryside. Barry had acquired his driving license just one year ago and he and his family normally lived in Dallas, Texas, U.S.A. They were now on holiday in the Spanish resort of Costa Dell Sol.

While their parents took an afternoon nap in their hotel room the boys decided to take a spin in Barry's TR7. This little sports car had an open top and they could enjoy the scenery that much more. The two brothers generally got on well enough although of course there was often a great deal of bickering between them as you would expect. Barry was a careful driver and was trusted to take his kid brother out with him without any fear of accidents. But sometimes you just don't know what's around the corner!

As the TR7 cruised along the deserted back road a few miles from their holiday home they listened to the latest music on the car audio system. It was a hot and sunny day, perfect for a little joyride. They were both dressed in T-shirts and tan shorts because of the heat. Barry said to his younger sibling, "It's great here isn't it, Frankie!"

His pre-teen brother replied, "Sure is! Mom and Dad made the right choice in coming here."

The older boy grinned as he said, "I can pick up one or two babes and you should find some kids your age to hang out with. Pretty cool, eh!" Frank nodded in agreement. They both believed this would be a summer break they would never forget. How right they were!

The teenage driver had checked the condition of the vehicle before they had set out and was fairly sure it would be safe enough for them that day. While Barry did have a reasonable knowledge of motor cars he was not a qualified mechanic. If he were he would have realised that there was a defect in the rear brakes as was discovered later. The chances of the car spinning out of control when the brakes were applied at fast speed were very high but neither of the youngsters could know this.

As they drove along the narrow road Barry could see a sharp bend to the left ahead of them. He put his foot down on the brake pedal a little sharply and then he lost control of his car. It began to skid and sway from one side of the road to the other while young Frankie called out to his brother, "What's happening?"

The older boy did not know. He might have regaining control again if he had not allowed panic to set in and affect his judgement. The red TR7 just careered off the road and it's driver could not prevent it doing so. It smashed quite heavily into the stone wall which ran along the side of the road. Barry was nearer to the wall then his brother so he suffered the full impact. Both of them had on their seat belts. If they had not, the consequences of the accident might well have been a lot worse.

It took several seconds for the younger brother to recover and take in what had happened. He was apparently unharmed although a little shaken. As he looked over to the driver's side of the wrecked car he realised that his brother was not so lucky. Barry was slumped behind the wheel and his eyes were closed as if he were sleeping. The car door on that side was completely buckled inwards and Frankie saw that his brother had a large gash on his forehead. He must have hit the wall pretty hard.

The 11 year old was still in shock and did not know what to do. He shook his injured sibling in an effort to wake him but Barry was clearly in a comatose state. They had not brought their mobile phones with them on this day so he could not call home or for an ambulance. How stupid! There did not seem to be anyone for miles who could help. Frankie knew he was the only one who could help his brother and he would, by God! He remembered learning at school about how dangerous it might be to move an accident victim from the scene of the accident and he did not know how serious Barry's condition was but he decided he could not leave him in the car like this. He had to get him out and somehow get him to help.

He unbuckled his and his big brother's seat belt and then opened the door on the passenger side. He placed his hands under Barry's armpits and then dragged him from the driver's seat, over the passenger seat and then out of the car. Now his brother was lying on the roadside. What should I do now? Should I call for help and hope somebody comes quickly? Frankie knew it was unlikely anyone would hear him if he did call out. There was not a soul to be seen.

He was scared but he could not allow fear to prevent him from doing anything. The only option was to get Barry to a place or to a house where help was available. How would he do that? I'll carry him! As he told himself this he wondered if he would be capable of doing so. Barry was seventeen, practically an adult and Frankie was just an average kid of eleven. His older sibling outweighed him by some 50lbs and was almost a foot taller and unconscious as he was he would be a dead weight. It seemed impossible but he knew that he had to try.

Frankie knelt down beside his motionless big brother. Adrenaline began to pump through him. He forced his hands under Barry's back and around his legs. I'm gonna do this, I have to! With a great effort he began to stand up and he had lifted the teen boy into his arms in a cradle. Nobody can say, even the small boy himself, where he got the power to perform such a feat or to support such a weight for even a moment. He found he could not only hold up his brother but he managed to walk down the road with him in his arms. He was carrying his teenage brother. Unbelievable! It was usually the other way around. He was not a very strong kid for his age and he had never done anything like this in his life before but here he was doing it.

Frankie actually moved along the narrow road at a quite brisk pace and it was not really that difficult to carry the bigger boy at first, he couldn't really feel his weight. You could put that down to the extraordinary acts of strength people are often capable of in times of crisis. The 11 year old child resolved to make the most of it while it lasted and get as far as he could with his brother who hung limply in his arms. After about five minutes his strength began to give out and his load began to get heavier and heavier and his arms began to feel like lead weights. His legs were buckling beneath him and he was sweating profusely from his efforts and from the blazing sun. He had to put Barry down on the ground and rest for a little while.

As he sat on the roadside beside his stricken elder brother he knew it was going to be hard going from then on but he would not let Barry down. He remembered all the times he himself was carried to bed by Barry when he got tired. His teenage brother had always been there for him and now it his turn to be there for him. The big guy was the helpless one now and the little guy was the one in charge. He wasn't sure how far they'd come but it seemed a very long distance and only God knew how far there was to go.

It was time to start again, Frankie knew. He decided to try the fireman's carry when picking up the teenager again. Might be easier, he figured. He managed to drag Barry up by his arms until he had him in an upright position and then, with strength he never knew he had, he hoisted his hefty frame across both of his shoulders. With great difficulty he began to trek down the desolate lane again with the seventeen year old draped over his young shoulders. How can I do this, he thought. I'm just a kid! When is somebody gonna come along and help us? There didn't appear to be anyone in sight so the little boy knew it was all down to him.

Only sheer determination and will power kept him going. He covered twenty yards. Fifty? He just wasn't sure. He thought his back would break under his brother's heavy lifeless body but still he kept moving. Just a boy he was but now he had to do a man's job. Step by torturous step he continued walking down the road that nobody seemed to use. Seconds seemed like hours. There had to be some sign of life somewhere, young Frankie reasoned.

He began to speak to his injured brother even though he could not hear him. This was as much for his own benefit as for Barry's. He said, "You weigh a ton, you know that! Bet you never thought you'd have to depend on me for a change. Bet you never thought I could carry you. Don't worry, buddy, help's coming soon." The boy then playfully slapped his brother on the seat of his shorts, hoping to get some kind of response. Barry did not make a sound. There was no sign of movement from him at all.

Tears began to flow from the younger boy's eyes and he pleaded with the older brother, "Don't you die on me, you big dope, you're all I've got!" He started to feel despair. Maybe it was already too late for Barry and he was beyond help. Frankie said a silent prayer as he moved further down the road to who knew where. Please don't let my brother die, he means so much to me! He just had to keep going. He knew that he had escaped injury so that he could help his brother but he may be dying anyway. He just prayed that he wasn't. He could not give up hope.

Stumbling and near exhaustion the 11 year old somehow kept moving. He just didn't know how his legs were holding him up. He was near the limits of his endurance. He could not carry his brother much further. Something told him there was something not far ahead. He could sense it. He wasn't sure exactly what but this feeling was enough to motivate him and keep him going. His whole body was just straining under his brother's dead weight but he could not give up now. Just a little further!

As he staggered around a bend to the right of the isolated road he saw the answer to his prayer. It was a small building, like a Spanish villa. He just hoped somebody was at home. His small body was beyond it's limits of endurance. He just collapsed under the older youth's weight and now they were both lying on the sweltering asphalt ground. Frankie pulled himself out from under his unconscious brother and ran up to the front door. He rang the bell and then called out, "Hello, is anybody there? Please answer me!" He just ached all over from his efforts in carrying Barry and he knew he had suffered some back strain.

He just kept on ringing the bell and shouting at the top of his voice, "Can you hear me? Please somebody help me!" If the little cottage was empty Frankie just did not know what he would do. He didn't even have enough energy to take himself any further. Finally the door opened and a dark haired middle aged woman stood in front of him. She had not seen the older youth lying on the road nearby yet so she gave the boy a puzzled expression and asked him, "What is it, child? Why are you ringing the doorbell like that?" She apparently spoke very good English and that was good news.

The young American boy explained what had happened some distance back on the road and that his older brother was hurt and needed a doctor or to be taken to a hospital. The woman went over to where the teenager remained motionless and knelt down beside him. She could see at once that he looked in a bad way. She said, "I think your brother needs to be taken to hospital. I will call for an ambulance. How did you manage to get him here?" The boy told her how he'd managed to carry the bigger boy quite a way. She was just amazed by this. "My God, boy, how could you have done this! He must have been extremely heavy for you."

Frankie nodded, "Yes, he was but I did it. I had to."

The lady found this hard to believe but she knew the bigger lad could not have made it here by himself so she conceded that the boy was speaking the truth. She smiled and told him, "We had better not waste any more time. You come inside and rest for a while and I will call for the ambulance. You have done very well, child, your parents will be proud I think."

And indeed they were. Barry was taken to the main hospital near Costa Del Sol and the doctors there told his family that his condition was stable but he remained in a coma and they were not sure when (or if) he would come out of it. For the next few days his mother and father and brother stayed at his bedside during visiting hours. Frankie just kept talking to his big brother in an attempt to bring him out of it. It was a stressful and worrying time for all of them.

At last, after five long days, Barry woke up from his deep slumber and saw the smiling faces of his parents and his kid brother who were just glad he was back with them again. His Dad, Steven Sullivan, told him about the heroism of his little brother and how he had somehow carried him from the wrecked car to the little house approximately one mile away. To Frankie it was the longest mile of his young life and he said he hoped he never had to do that again.

Barry just shook his head in disbelief. "That little squirt carried me! No way!" But he really knew that what he'd been told was the truth. His parents had never lied to him and he realised how lucky he was to have a brother like Frankie. He took the younger boy's hand in his own and said, "Thanks, buddy!" This was something he had never told his kid brother before. He had never appreciated him enough but things were going to be different between them now. He asked Frankie then, "Was I heavy!"

Well, I think you know his little brother's response to that and since you've all heard it so many times I won't even bother to tell you so I guess I can end my little tale now. Hope that you all enjoyed it.


End file.
